


Nightmare

by ofwyrmsandguns



Series: Charlie is Aroace, Bill is demi bisexual [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, I can't put too many tags yet without spoiling much, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:03:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwyrmsandguns/pseuds/ofwyrmsandguns
Summary: It's nearing 20 years since the battle of astronomy tower, and Bill is having trouble dealing with the memory of it.





	1. A secret to keep

Laughter swirled around the tent, accompanying overly loud music and dancing lights. From somewhere came the drunken singing of his best man, and the proud and tearful bragging of his mum. But no sight nor sound stood so stunning as his wife, her face shining with joy and laughter, held in his arms, both of them looking as if they'd want nothing more than to be like this forever. But it didn't last. It never lasts.

 

The lights died and the laughter stopped all too suddenly to be natural, the tent was gone and the night sky threatened rain. No more guests, but fighters, warriors in a dark war, their wands ready for battle.

 

And then they came; those monsters wearing the faces of humans, firing curses willy nilly, no skill, no accuracy. A tiny army of expendable enemies, all so easy to dodge, if not a bit distracting... Bill had relived the next moments so often, he could recite it like a poem...

 

He barely dodged a stunning spell, leaping aside too quickly to realise he'd leapt into the grabbing arms of Fenris, his precious wand wrenched from his grip and kicked away. Fenris was built sturdier than Bill, he easily overpowered the young man, shoving him to the floor, kneeling on his stomach to hold him down, warm, rancid breath washing over his face. It smelt of death.

 

Then came the biting, over and over, sharp pains across his face followed by pulling and tearing, the sharp pains becoming drawn out and unbearable, hot breath on exposed meat, blood running into his eyes, screams lost under the yells of battle.

 

Bill woke with a start, twisted in his blankets, panting like a dog. Ground himself quick: the quilted blanket from his mum, the proggy rugs made by a close friend, his wife, sleeping soundly and heavily as always. He was at home, not the tower. The war was over, they were all safe. His eyes were stinging from tears, not blood. Fenris couldn't hurt him, or anyone else, ever again. A group of ridiculously determined monster hunters had broken into Azkhaban to ensure it.

 

That dream happened a lot, Fenris attacking him, interrupting happy memories or wild adventures. It had been so commonplace from the time he'd been attacked to Victoire's birth. Barely a night had gone by without a visit from Fenris; it had gotten so bad he'd needed to take potions to sleep at all. They'd all but stopped when Victoire arrived, a constant reminder of why they'd suffered, he'd even joked to his mum that he was sleeping better with a new baby in the house, blaming it on having so many younger siblings. He'd never told anyone what the dreams were; no-one had seen him dodge the attack, and he'd never felt the need to say otherwise.

 

But he'd been getting the dream more and more commonly recently, interrupting joyous dreams of his wedding, his children's birthdays, or long summer days at the beach. He hated it, but there wasn't that much to do about it. Maybe it was because it was getting close to 20 years since his attack, maybe it had no reason. Maybe he should talk to someone about it.

 

He picked up his wand from the bedside table and stood by the window to examine it, hoping to clear his head. He'd had it since he was 11, Uncle Gideon's old wand. His parents couldn't afford to buy him one back then, nor could they for Charlie, but while Charlie's wand from Uncle Fabian had happily worked for Ron, Bill's wand was stubborn. It wouldn't work for anyone but Gideon or bill, and even then Bill suspected it only worked for him because Uncle Gideon would let Bill play with it for a laugh. The wand had survived 2 wars, and was as reliable now as when it had first been bought countless years before. He'd never felt quite so helpless as when it had been taken from him back then, never felt so defenceless... he clutched it tighter, cautiously curious of whether the war would have ended the same without his most trusted weapon.

 

The sky was still pitch black through the window, no point in staying awake, but the cool room helped clear Bill's mind, and the trusty wand helped reassure him that he was safe. Eventually he returned to bed, embracing his beloved wife as he drifted away once more.

 


	2. Old friends to meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets ready to go to school, and Bill visits an old friend.

Fleur had gone to work early, while Victoire and Dom were at Hogwarts, leaving Bill, who was in between assignments and helping arrange a new tomb to tackle, to get Louis ready for school. Louis would be starting at Hogwarts soon too, the following September, but for now he was upset that he couldn't be there now. However, Vic's worry about her NEWTs next year seemed to curb his enthusiasm somewhat.

 

“Have you got much planned for today?” Bill asked as they sat eating breakfast before school. They'd agreed sending the kids to a muggle school would be better all around than being homeschooled as they'd both been, and despite a few tears and a few angry talks with teachers, it had worked out well so far.

 

“It's science today!” Louis reminded him with a bright smile. “And cross stitch club after school. Don't forget this time.” He warned.

 

“What are you doing in science then?”

 

“Filtering water. We're gonna make filters to clean dirty water using rocks and sand.” Louis chattered happily. “Dom said it didn't work for when their class did it but Dom's not as good at science as me.” He boasted. Bill chortled.

 

“No, but Dom is a lot stronger than you, so I wouldn't rub it in their face.” Bill reminded him. “Just like how I'm a better apparator than uncle Charlie, but we don't say it to his face, do we?”

 

Louis shook his head, grinning ear to ear at the memories of all the stories he'd heard of Charlie's occasionally poor apparating skills. “Is uncle Charlie coming round again soon?”

 

“He hasn't said anything, but he never does. Just turns up and steals my food.” Bill complained. “Come on, kiddo, lets get you to school.”

 

They apparated just outside of the nearby village and walked to the primary school, Louis chattering away about his favourite subjects the whole way. Bill listened with a pleased smile on his face, the nightmares all but forgotten.

 

“From the sounds of it, Louis, you're gonna make an amazing Ravenclaw.” Bill teased, ruffling Louis' hair. Louis immediately pouted.

 

“No way! I'm gonna be in Gryffindor, just like you.” He insisted. “I'm much braver than I am smart, and I'll prove it!” He climbed onto a wall, maybe 4 foot off the ground, and walked along it with a triumphant grin on his face. Bill gave a soft shrug with a face that said 'you've shown me wrong then', sticking close to the wall to catch him if he fell. Louis still hero worshipped his dad, a trait he'd never grown out of and Bill dreaded the day when he would, and wished for nothing more than to follow his dad's footsteps and become head curse breaker for Gringotts. He had no qualms over who knew his dad was the coolest, especially making sure all his aunts and uncles knew. George and Charlie generally tried to change his mind, but Mrs Weasley always backed him up, as did Ginny (especially when Ron was around).

 

Louis joined his friends at the gates, waving goodbye to his dad before huddling with his mates, chatting about some subject or another. Probably football. Bill left with a grin on his face, which faded as he thought back over that dream... He needed to talk to someone about it. Someone he could trust, and would know what was going on.

 

Well, he had quite a treasure trove of friends from school to do that. Pere and Poth, his twin friends from his year, were a monster hunter and a healer respectively. They'd probably know what exactly was causing it, having dealt with attacks like his before, but they were always busy and he wanted answers soon. He'd write a letter to ask to meet them anyway. Jacob was knowledgable on curses, but whether he knew more than Bill about cursed werewolf bites was uncertain.

 

But Barnaby might. He'd trained as a magizoologist after Hogwarts, learning as much as he could about caring for any and all animals and eventually became one of the stock breeders for Magical Menagerie. He was well known for his army of Nifflers causing havoc around his home. Post war, he'd started to help study werewolves so the ministry under Shacklebolt could put out evidence against nay-sayers that werewolves deserved equal rights.

 

Once out of the sight of muggles, Bill apparated to Barnaby's house, a small, quaint farmhouse surrounded by fields and a small forest. Thestrals gazed in the areas in between, bowtruckles swung on branches and fairies immediately fluttered over to play with Bill's hair. Same as always.

 

Bill knocked on the door, which was quickly answered by a messy, scruffed up looking Barnaby, who currently held a spitting cat against his chest with a crup, tails wagging a dozen times a second, pawed at Barnaby's legs to get the cat. Barnaby's eyes lit up at the sight of Bill.

 

“Hey Bill!” Barnaby cheered, dropping the cat which immediately ran out the door followed by the crup, and grabbed Bill in his standard greeting, a headlock. “Been a while! What brings you here?”

 

“I just wanted a chat, you're not busy are you?” Bill asked, peering over Barnaby's shoulder into the room beyond, filled with kneazles and owls all being very noisy.

 

“No, come in.” Barnaby ushered him in, through the labyrinth of beds and litter trays and into a kitchen, where as soon as Bill sat down, five different creatures immediately vied for his attention and his lap, at least until Barnaby finished making 2 cuppas and sat down too, where countless animals descended upon him instead, much to Barnaby's joy. They caught up for a while, sipping tea and telling tales from their work and family life, absently petting which ever animal appeared in their lap. Eventually Bill plucked up the courage and the words to ask Barnaby the question he'd come here to solve.

 

“Barnaby, do you remember much about that werewolf study you helped with?” Bill asked, and the air in the room seemed to change as Barnaby turned away from Bill.

 

“I just helped take care of the werewolves, I wasn't doing any of the booky stuff.” Barnaby reminded him. They sat in an awkward silence for a moment before Barnaby asked “Why?”

 

Bill explained about the nightmares and how they were getting more and more prevalent again, while Barnaby either didn't look at him or kept intense eye contact. At the end of it, Barnaby was staring into his cup of tea intently.

 

“I thought you said you didn't remember the attack.” Barnaby whispered, looking mortified. Bill hadn't given much details beyond that the nightmares were about his attack, but even Barnaby could figure out how gruesome of an affair it must have been.

 

“I never said anything either way.” Bill reminded him. They sat once more in silence, Bill eventually getting up to wash the tea cups.

 

“Some of the people complained about really bad nightmares at the start of the cycle, others when they were particularly stressed.” Barnaby stated. Again the only noise in the room was chirping birds and loudly purring cats. “I'm so sorry.” Barnaby repeated for the umpteenth time, burying his head in his hands.

 

At the start of the war, before the ministry even admitted that Voldemort was back, the rumours of his return had drove people into hiding. Knowing his parents had been loyal death eaters, and fearing Voldemort would seek his alliance, Barnaby had fled the country. No news could bring him back, not Bill's mutilation or wedding, not the Orders requests and promises or the Battle Of Hogwarts, nothing until the news of Voldemort's death, when the old group of friends finally reunited at Tonk's funeral.

 

Barnaby had blamed himself for a lot of it, it's why he refused to look at Bill's scars, or visit The Burrow or Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and why Teddy always got amazing presents from his uncle Barnaby, despite never having met him. Nothing anyone told him would convince Barnaby of anything different.

 

Instead, all Bill could think to do was hug Barnaby, trying to soothe his anxieties that everyone hated him for his inaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Barnaby, I don’t blame him though.
> 
> I mentioned in a previous work that Louis is just super thinks his dad is the dog’s bollocks. I don’t know why that character archetype is such a thing for me. Just sons with dads trying their best, sons think their dad is the greatest. Makes my heart melt.
> 
> I’ve done that science practical before, it didn’t go well. In a related practical a teacher asked me to try salt water. Don’t do that kids.
> 
> Barnaby’s house is like my dream. I too love animals and want 20 of each.

**Author's Note:**

> There's quite a few headcannons in here, but I read someone else's head cannon that Charlie's old wand was his uncle Fabian's, and I guess logically that means either Bill or Percy will have Uncle Gideon's then.
> 
> This might be a slow updating story, I recently started university so my free time is limited. But I'm enjoying writing it, so hopefully it won't be too slow of an update.
> 
> I realised that I haven't said that Bill and Charlie's sexualities as discussed in 'Wyrms Are Ace' are cannon for all my fics, hence the new collection titled the stop any confusion.


End file.
